


You found me (in the lost and found)

by dressedupasmyself



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Grimmauld Place, Karaoke, Kissing, Leaky Cauldron, M/M, Sad Harry, vegetable garden
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 07:15:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20336218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dressedupasmyself/pseuds/dressedupasmyself
Summary: The bathroom at The Leaky Cauldron might not have been the last place Draco expected to run into Harry Potter, but it definitely wasn’t first on his list of expectations for what would happen when they went out for Blaise’s birthday.





	You found me (in the lost and found)

The bathroom at The Leaky Cauldron might not have been the last place Draco expected to run into Harry Potter, but it definitely wasn’t first on his list of expectations for what would happen when they went out for Blaise’s birthday.

But there he was, dick in hand at the urinal, staring wide eyed back at Draco.

“Oh – Potter. What are you doing here?”

“Uhm – peeing?” Potter said, because despite five years having passed since Draco had last spoken to the man, he had not, in fact, gotten any smarter.

“Yes, I can quite see that. Why are you at the Leaky? Aren’t you and your friends too grand for a place as dirty as this?” Draco curled his lip and wiped his hands on his trousers at the mention of hygiene. The layer of filth packed to the pub’s floors never ceased to amaze him. Not that he spent particularly large amounts of time there, mind – he really only made an exception for Blaise’s birthday.

Potter tucked himself back into his jeans and was regarding Draco with an amused expression. “We come here every week.”

“Oh.” Draco schooled his face into a haughty expression. “Well, I would expect nothing less of you, quite frankly. You’ve always had a bit of a thing for the worn down and ugly.”

Potter stepped closer to Draco. Draco refused to back down, and fought down the urge to fold his arms over his chest for good measure.

“That’s a bit awkward, then, since Hermione has a theory that I’ve always had a bit of a thing for you, Malfoy.” Potter winked, and Draco felt his eyes widen. “I guess that would make you- what did you call it again? Ugly? Worn down?” He rinsed his hands and gave Draco a long look up and down. “I’d disagree quite strongly with both of those statements, I think.”

Draco swallowed. He thought he might be supposed to say something – but he couldn’t begin to figure out how to operate his vocal cords. Potter had – what?

Potter laughed then, and stepped around Draco. “When you’ve picked your jaw up off the floor, Malfoy, why don’t you and your friends come and join us? We’re about to move to Troll’s Bludger for karaoke.”

***

Draco hated Harry fucking Potter with everything he had.

He’d only glanced at some of Pansy’s gossip magazines in passing in the last five years. His passing glimpses had been enough to keep him up to date with the saviour’s spiral into scandal after scandal. First there was his breakup with the She-Weasel, which had caused quite a few rumours regarding infidelity – who they blamed it on, Draco couldn’t quite remember.

Next had been the numerous images of Potter dancing and drinking at various shady nightclubs that might have been even filthier than the Leaky Cauldron. Draco had definitely not stolen away Pansy’s copy of that particular issue to stare obsessively at the curve of Potter’s body and the oblivious expression on his face.

The last he’d seen was a blurred image of Potter in what looked like a dark alley, pressed tightly to somebody who had a suspiciously similar build and haircut to Charlie Weasley. Needless to say, Draco had bought himself his own copy, just to make absolutely certain that the man in question was, in fact, Potter himself and not just a particularly convincing doppelganger.

It was very clear to Draco, as he watched Potter lean over Ron Weasley at their booth in order to tap Longbottom on the shoulder, that Potter had definitely filled out quite a bit since Draco had last seen him. His shirt fit snugly, and his jeans hugged his arse in a way that made Draco suspect Potter might find it difficult to breathe whilst wearing those trousers. He was starting to think that Charlie Weasley might not have been the only person Potter had snogged against a wall. He wondered idly, as he forced his gaze away from the gaggle of Gryffindors in order to make his way over to his own friends in the opposite corner, whether Potter was steadily working his way through the entire Weasley family.

Draco dropped into a seat to Blaise’s left. His friend slung his arm around him, shouting something over the music about how it would be a fabulous birthday, if only he had cake.

Draco shot one more glance in Potter’s direction, but his view was blocked by several tables full of other people. He let it go – it was severely likely that Potter had already forgotten about his karaoke exclamation, and Draco wasn’t falling over his own feet to join a group of people who likely still hated his guts in an activity that would embarrass the pants off him. He was there for Blaise.

“I’ll get you cake tomorrow,” Draco promised, and made room for Millicent when she came back with drinks floating behind her.

***

“Oi! Malfoy!” Draco startled at the sound of his name behind him. He saw Pansy and Greg’s faces morph into something sceptical in front of him, and he knew at once who had called for him. With a sigh, Draco turned around.

“What is it, Potter? Are you having trouble locating the loo this time?”

Potter laughed. “Fuck, but you’re every bit as poncey as I remember. Come on, we’re going.” He seemed to finally take in the confused faces at the table. “Karaoke? Come on, all of you. We’re not going to wait forever, mind.”

Draco met Blaise’s gaze, and he silently begged him to say no. Blaise glanced over Draco’s shoulder, then shrugged and grinned unabashedly at Draco.

“I don’t fancy spending my entire birthday sitting on my arse and counting teeth. Plus, I’m a beast at karaoke.”

And that is how Draco ended up squeezed into a booth between Ginny Weasley and Blaise as they flirted over him, neither caring that he was trapped in the middle and feeling supremely awkward. Potter and Weasley were currently on the stage, belting out a truly horrific rendition of an already atrocious Weird Sisters’ song. Granger was speaking directly into Longbottom’s ear while he nodded intently on the other side of their booth, and Lovegood was smiling on Ginny’s other side, swaying lightly to the music. Draco suspected Pansy, Millie and Greg had gotten stuck at the bar, since it had been a good while since he’d last seen them.

Draco sighed and stared morosely at his empty glass.

Longbottom looked up and met Draco’s gaze. He grinned in amusement at Draco’s predicament, and Draco could really only roll his eyes.

“Fancy another?” Longbottom mouthed, pointing at Draco’s glass. Draco nodded despite himself, and Longbottom stood to get a refill. That left Draco staring awkwardly across the table at Granger, who was watching him hesitantly.

Blaise pushed Draco forward and into the table so he could hear the She-Weasel better and Draco groaned.

“For fuck’s sake, Blaise, just let me out.”

Blaise moved just long enough for Draco to squeeze past him. Draco took a deep breath once he was free, and glanced around at the room. He still couldn’t see his missing friends, and it looked like Potter and Weasley were nearing the end of their song. People were clapping and cheering loudly, and Draco sneered at them.

“Why so down, Malfoy? It’s supposed to be a party,” Potter remarked after he’d jumped off the stage. He seemed to be riding the edge between tipsy and drunk, and Draco wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with this new image he now had of a frazzled, carefree Potter. It was a good look on him, despite Draco’s reluctance to admit it.

“It must have been your ghastly singing that ruined the mood. “

Potter glanced at where Blaise was moving a lock of Ginny’s hair behind her ear. Draco met his gaze and raised an eyebrow, to which Potter simply shrugged. He didn’t care.

Longbottom returned with a round of gigglewaters, and Draco found himself once again bundled into a seat at the overly crowded booth. This time he was squeezed in between Granger and Potter, who was practically sitting on his lap for lack of space.

Draco took the drink that was handed to him, but didn’t immediately swallow it down. He realised his mistake after he’d felt Potter shake against him in a fit of sudden laughter. He would be the last to drink, and thus everyone would be watching him.

Potter leaned over Draco (a fairly unnecessary amount) to flick his empty glass onto the table, then quirked an eyebrow at Draco.

Fuck it, Draco had done far worse things in his lifetime. He took the shot, and it felt as though he was being tickled. He giggled, throwing his head back. When the pressure in his ribs eased up, he saw Potter watching him with a bit of awe in his expression. Draco swallowed, all traces of laughter gone.

Blaise and Ginny claimed their spot on the stage, and Draco could finally breathe as there was more space in the booth. Potter excused himself to go to the toilet, and Draco was again left with Granger, as Longbottom had managed to pull Lovegood into a discussion on some foreign plant.

“I heard about your work on reversing spell damage using potions,” Granger told him, tilting her head toward him warily. “I find the concept quite fascinating.”

It took Draco a second to wrap his head around the fact that he was talking to Hermione Granger, of all people, about his job, of all things, but then Granger had such interesting things to say that he got over it rather quickly.

They were debating the effects of having wormwood react negatively to healing spells when Potter returned and squeezed himself back in next to Draco. He didn’t interrupt their conversation, instead quietly observing the room and, Draco suspected, determining the location of his friends. Draco decided to follow his lead and ignored him, letting himself get caught up in his conversation. It had been a while since he’d been around someone who could rival his intellect and who he could run his ideas by and actually get an objective opinion. It was nice.

“Mione, are you almost ready to leave?” Ronald leaned over Granger’s shoulder, eyeing Draco with some trepidation. Granger cut herself off in the middle of a sentence and glanced at her watch. Her eyes widened.

“Oh, I didn’t realise where the time had gone.” She nodded at Draco. “We simply must meet up again, Draco. I have a few thoughts regarding Memory Charms that I’d like to get your opinion on.” She leaned behind Draco to greet Potter, then left with Weasley.

Draco turned to Potter. “You drag me all the way to a karaoke bar, just to sit by yourself the entire time. What is the point in that?”

Potter sat slouched in his chair, and he grinned lazily at Draco.

“I thought you said my singing wasn’t good.”

Draco scoffed. “When have you ever let my opinion stop you from doing something?”

Potter shrugged, and Draco suspected that he was drunker than he let on. Potter proved this point by leaning his head against Draco’s shoulder and sighing, “I’m tired.”

Draco frowned and let his gaze move around the room in search of someone he knew. Blaise was still with Ginny, now standing closer to each other than strictly professional. Longbottom had excused himself to greet an acquaintance, leaving only Lovegood at the booth with Draco. Draco was going to kill Pansy for leaving him alone.

“Draco,” came Lovegood’s dreamy voice. “Are you going to take Harry home?”

Draco looked at her. Her eyes seemed a lot sharper than he had ever suspected, but then again, he hadn’t exactly spent much time with her outside of his dungeon.

“I don’t know where he lives,” Draco mumbled, shifting awkwardly in a futile attempt to dislodge the head on his shoulder.

Lovegood tilted her head. “Don’t be silly, of course you do. It used to be yours.”

Draco frowned. His slightly inebriated brain tried to make sense of what she was saying – Potter didn’t live in the Manor, did he? Surely Draco would have realised – oh. “Grimmauld Place.”

Lovegood nodded. “I’ll walk with you, if you’d like. It’s not very far from here.”

Draco resisted a groan. He was too drunk for this. He glanced at the snoring Potter, then made a decision.

“Actually, Lovegood, would you mind just staying here with him for a second? I’ll be right back.”

Lovegood nodded and moved into Draco’s empty space when he stood. He made his way to the bar, thankful that the largest crowds had dissipated. He requested a glass of saltwater, ignoring the snide look the bartender shot him.

Back at the table, Lovegood was braiding Potter’s messy strands, singing something under her breath. Draco reached into his pocket and dropped a single blue disk of powder into the glass of water.

“What is that?” Lovegood asked, a curious tilt to her voice.

“An experiment,” Draco admitted, swirling the glass to make sure the tablet had dissolved completely. “I usually test sobering potions on Greg, but he has disappeared so I suppose Potter will have to do.”

Draco tugged Potter’s head upright and opened his mouth. Potter’s eyes fluttered open. “Drink, Potter, I’m not dragging your arse home.”

Potter shoved Draco’s hands out of the way and swallowed down the entire contents of the glass.

“Tastes like Blueberries,” he mumbled, letting his eyes close again. Draco rolled his eyes and plopped down next to Lovegood.

“It should kick in within a minute. I don’t know what effect the dehydrating spell will have on the potency of the potion, but I suspect it’ll still work.”

“I like you, Draco Malfoy,” Lovegood said vaguely. “I think you’re my favourite cousin.”

Draco started. He’d somehow forgotten that he was related to Lovegood. “Do you have many cousins?” he asked.

“Just the one,” Lovegood said, and grinned.

Draco huffed out a laugh. “That significantly takes away from the fact that I’m your favourite.”

Lovegood shrugged. “I think you would be my favourite even if I had a dozen.”

Draco felt a pang of guilt for not making more of an effort with his remaining family. Merlin knew he had few enough of those. He shook his head. He wasn’t typically a sad drunk, but when he hit that point, it wasn’t pretty.

Potter thankfully stirred again, opening his eyes. He squinted against the light. “What did you give me?” He didn’t sound appalled that Draco had had the opportunity to poison him, which Draco took as a good sign.

“Sobering Solution. Do you feel ready to go home?”

Potter’s eyes pierced through Draco as he nodded. He was still quiet, but Draco chalked it up to the nausea he might be feeling. He itched to ask Potter about his symptoms and experience of taking a rehydrated version of the potion rather than the original, but he wasn’t entirely sure Potter would even understand any of his questions, so instead he stood up.

“Come on, Lovegood. We don’t have all night.”

The streets were quiet, and Draco shivered in the cool breeze. It had been slightly stuffy inside the bar, and he took a deep breath.

“Do you want to come to my housewarming party, Draco?” Lovegood asked as they walked. Potter was walking beside Draco, not saying a word, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets. Lovegood was on Draco’s other side, a slight skip to her steps as she walked.

“Do I need to bring a gift?” Draco asked, focusing on avoiding any mysterious puddles on the sidewalk.

“If you use presents as a way to show affection, then I won’t mind. Otherwise, no. Just yourself. But don’t wear shoes, they upset the Blibbering Humdingers.”

Draco smiled with a shake of his head. “Alright, I’ll be there.”

They reached Grimmauld Place, and Potter led them up the drive to number twelve. He opened the door, letting Lovegood in ahead of him. Draco stepped past him hesitantly, trying to ignore the intense way Potter was looking at him.

“You’ve removed the Fidelius Charm, then?” Draco asked, taking in the changes Potter had made to his aunt’s home. Gone were the ghastly wallpaper and slightly creepy dismembered creatures. Instead, the place seemed light and lived in and exactly like Potter. It was surprisingly neat, with only a few bits and pieces standing around.

“May I use your floo, Harry?” Lovegood called from the living room.

Potter followed her voice to greet her, and Draco drifted after him. He was feeling slightly out of place with how much of Potter he could feel in the house. It was making him uncomfortable.

“I’ll see you Saturday, Luna.” Potter mumbled as he hugged her. Lovegood smiled knowingly at him before turning to Draco.

“And Draco too.”

Potter didn’t quite look at Draco, so Draco nodded at Lovegood. She popped away into the fireplace, leaving them in a slightly awkward silence.

“I suppose I’m next?” Draco asked, making to take a handful of powder. Potter’s hand grabbed at his sleeve, stopping him.

“Wait,” he said, voice slightly rough, “Won’t you stay? Just a little?”

Draco looked at Potter’s face. His eyes were shining, greener than Draco had ever seen them.

“If you want,” Draco gave in. He shifted again, trying to ease the pressure of Potter’s magic that was seeping through the walls and the floors. Draco was used to feeling his father’s magic in the Manor, but it felt nothing like this. He’d been to enough wizarding homes to know that each person’s magic felt slightly different, but never had he imagined Potter’s to feel so… sad.

“Tea?” Potter asked, his hands back in his pockets. Draco nodded, and they moved to the kitchen.

“What happened to the house elf?” Draco asked. He remembered a wrinkly, grumpy creature from visiting with his mother years ago.

“He’s with Andromeda and Teddy. She needs his help more than I do, and Kreacher prefers working for the Black family.”

Draco sat up straighter at the mention of his aunt and cousin. He’d met his aunt once, when he was barely even riding a broom. She’d mostly shouted at his mother, so he had never been particularly eager to see her again. Now, though, he might be willing to change his mind.

“How are they?” Draco asked.

Potter shrugged as he poured boiling water into a teapot. “They’re doing well. Teddy has just started school. We had to wait until he had more control over his metamorphing before we could send him to a muggle school.”

“Why a muggle school?” Draco asked. At Potter’s questioning glance, he elaborated. “I just mean that there are plenty of wizarding primary schools that would give him just as well of an education, and then you wouldn’t need to worry about his control slipping.”

Potter brought the tea and two cups over to where Draco was sitting and took the seat next to him. “Andromeda and I spoke about that, and we want him to be able to adjust to both worlds. He will have his wizarding education when he goes to Hogwarts, so it makes sense to start him off in a muggle school. So many wizards struggle with the simplest of muggle concepts, and that can often be a detriment to their success. I want Teddy to be able to do whatever he wants, and so I will do what I can to ensure that he has the necessary skills to do so.”

Draco watched Potter pour the tea. He certainly hadn’t expected Potter to be a bad godfather, but with the reputation he’d gained over recent years as an irresponsible party boy, Draco hadn’t expected this level of insight from him.

Draco took his cup from Potter. He reached for the sugar and added an ungodly amount. Potter didn’t comment on it, but Draco did notice his nose twitch in amusement. Draco wasn’t too phased. If he knew how Potter like his tea from years of keeping an eye on him at Hogwarts, then he was certain Potter remembered his own preferences as well.

Draco sipped at his tea, and Potter pushed his own cup out of the way. He folded his arms on the table in front of him and laid his head on top.

“Are you feeling alright?” Draco asked. “I gave you an untested prototype of a dehydrated Sobering Solution, so if something is wrong, you need to tell me, Potter.”

Potter shook his head, and it took Draco a few seconds to determine that he was crying.

Draco hesitantly reached out a hand but took it back before he could actually touch the other man. Instead, he waited, letting Potter have his moment.

“Sorry,” Potter mumbled into his arms. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me, Potter. That’s never worked on me, and it’s not about to start now. “

Potter made a noise, and Draco thought it might have been a laugh. Potter sat up and wiped at his eyes under his glasses. “What time is it?” Potter asked.

Draco glanced at his watch. “Just after three.”

“Fuck,” Potter mumbled. “Go home, it’s late.”

Draco reached for the teapot. “I’d rather not leave you alone right now.” Potter’s head jerked up. “I need to ensure you won’t die from my untested potion.”

It was bullshit, and Draco was sure they both knew it. Draco wouldn’t have given Potter anything if he didn’t think it safe.

“Alright, but I’m afraid I won’t be the best of company right now.”

Draco shrugged, stirring his tea. “When have you known me to be good company in your presence, Potter? You get on my nerves and make me furious. I don’t see why I should expect anything different from you.”

The edges of Potter’s lips curved up, and he took a sip of his tea.

“I know what you must think of me,” Potter mumbled, digging his thumbnail into the wooden table. “I try not to read the papers, but I’m not blind or deaf. It gets back to me, what they’re saying.”

“Are you referring to the allegations that you’re steadily fucking your way through the entire Weasley family?” Draco asked casually. Potter bristled, and Draco raised a single eyebrow.

“Fuck you, Malfoy.”

“What?” Draco defended. “I used the word allegations. And it’s not like I spend a sufficient amount of time with you to distinguish the truth from the stories. Before tonight, I barely even remembered you existed.” Draco had never before said anything less true, and with the way Potter’s eyes narrowed, Draco could tell that he wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Well, I’m not doing that,” Potter said.

Draco resisted the urge to laugh. “I know. Granger would never let you near her man, so it’s a bit of a futile goal.”

Potter rolled his eyes. “I thought, for a while, that I would marry Ginny. Then she fucked off for six months to train with the Holyhead Harpies, and we realised it wasn’t going to work. She needs a lot more freedom than I can give her, and I need someone who can stay with me so I don’t second guess everything they’ve ever said to me.”

“And Charlie?”

Potter scratched at his forehead. “Charlie lives in Romania, and he’s insanely hot. I didn’t actually intend for anything to happen, but he convinced me to have some fun before he left in the morning. We weren’t even going to tell Ginny, which was a bit of a dick move, and I guess you saw how much that didn’t work out.”

“Your magic feels miserable,” Draco finally admitted, twitching in his seat.

Potter looked surprised. “What?”

“Your magic. It’s seeped into every corner of this house. I felt it when I came in, and I thought it was a bit scratchy because you weren’t entirely comfortable having me in your space. But that’s not it.” Draco leaned forward. “Why are you so sad, Potter?”

Potter frowned. “Can everybody feel it when they visit?”

Draco nodded. “I don’t think it’d be as clear to everybody, but they would still get a sense of something being off. Purebloods are generally more in tune when it comes to magical signatures, and I’ve spent quite a bit of time analysing the Manor’s.”

“I thought I was doing a good job at hiding it,” Potter groaned. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, and Draco resisted the urge to gently pull his hands away.

“Why do you need to hide? I’d imagine that you, of all people, would have the right to feel anything you want.”

Potter sighed and lowered his arms. “I’m supposed to be happy. I beat the bad guy, didn’t I? Everybody’s doing okay, we’re healing. I shouldn’t be making people miserable with my house.”

Draco twitched again. “It’s not completely horrible, really. It just feels a bit empty.”

Potter stayed quiet for a few moments. “Lonely?”

Draco thought that yes, that’s exactly it. “I’ll stay.”

Potter shook his head. “You don’t have to. I’m a grown man, I can take care of myself.”

“And you don’t have to be alone. Besides, I’ve been thinking the whole night about something you said earlier.”

Potter seemed to give in. “What’s that?”

Draco settled back into his chair. “Back at the Leaky, you said that Granger thought you had a thing for me. I’ve never known her to be wrong before. Is this an exception?”

Potter blushed. “I can’t believe I told you that. I’m never drinking again.”

Draco huffed. “Somehow, I don’t believe that.”

Potter shifted in his seat, not meeting Draco’s gaze. Draco watched him squirm for a second, then grew tired of it. He leaned over, using his fingertips to tilt Potter’s head towards him.

Potter’s eyes widened and zeroed in on Draco’s lips. Draco pressed a soft kiss to Potter’s lips, then pulled away.

“I think I have a bit of a thing for you too, Potter.”

Draco stood, and without waiting for Potter to say anything, ran for the loo.

Draco had never thought himself to be the type to make the first move. He was more of a words guy, really. Between the two of them, Potter was supposed to be the rash one. Draco quite preferred running away, and he was just trying to find a way to excuse himself from the situation without going back on his promise to not leave Potter alone, when there was a soft knock on the door.

Draco opened it hesitantly, and Potter was standing there, bottom lip tucked between his teeth and hands shoved in his pockets.

“Please don’t go.”

Draco stepped into the hallway. “I won’t.”

Potter nodded. “Good.”

***

Lovegood’s house was different than Draco expected. He pictured several dried vegetables hanging from the rafters and plants in every crevice. Somehow, the faded yellow walls and sky-blue furniture did not match his expectations at all.

“Draco! You made it!”

Draco held out a carefully wrapped moisturising hand towel. Lovegood took it with a big smile and hugged him warmly.

“Leave your shoes behind that shrub so the Humdinger won’t see it.”

Draco spotted the said shrub and quickly toed off his shoes. He spotted a ratty pair of trainers amongst the pile, and his heart skipped a beat.

“Luna,” he called. “Is Harry here?”

Lovegood smiled knowingly. “He’s picking salad ingredients in the vegetable garden. He might need help, the nargles can be quite aggressive this time of year.”

“Right, we wouldn’t want that,” he said dryly. “I’ll go check on him.”

Draco made his way past Lovegood’s friends, shaking hands and nodding polite hellos as he went.

Lovegood’s vegetable garden was a little way from the house, and Draco pushed open the gate.

“Why the fuck won’t you just let go?”

Draco smiled at the frustrated voice. “Everything alright?”

Potter stood up, and Draco finally spotted him amongst the lettuce. “I don’t need your help, Malfoy.”

“Oh, really?” Draco asked, stepping up close and running his hand up Potter’s arm. “You look like you’re losing the battle.”

Potter sighed and smiled softly. He dropped the scissors he was holding and reached out to pull Draco into a hug.

“Let me go, you oaf! You’re getting mud all over me!”

“I don’t care,” Potter mumbled into Draco’s neck. His lips moved up, searching for Draco’s, and Draco sighed into the kiss.

Potter kissed him slowly, as if they had all the time in the world, and Draco gave himself permission to go along with it.

“Harry, Neville said not to bother with the lettuce, they’re a bit stubborn – oh.”

Draco jumped back, but Potter’s hands held him close.

“Hey, Ginny,” Potter grinned at his ex, who had stopped a bit away from them and was watching the two of them with a sly expression. “Would you mind finishing up here? I have to go, uhm, show Draco something behind the shed.”

Draco felt his name roll down his spine as it left Potter’s lips. Potter winked at him, and Draco struggled not to laugh.

“I know what you’re going to show him,” Ginny rolled her eyes. “Just put it away when you’re done, the rest of us aren’t interested.”

Potter laughed this time and let his (still dirty, mind) hand slide down to wrap around Draco’s. He pecked Ginny’s cheek when they passed her. “Love you, Gin.”

Draco could feel Potter’s magic swirl around them as he was pressed against the side of the gardening shed. It was still a bit prickly, but Draco could feel it soften as he ran his hands along Potter’s back.

“I’m so glad you decided to go pee when you did,” Potter mumbled against his lips, and Draco laughed.

“I might need to pee now, actually.”

Potter groaned. “Just hold it, you’re not a baby.”

Draco shoved lightly at him, then pulled him back with a hand tangled in messy curls. “Okay.”


End file.
